


Miss Jackson, Are You Nasty?

by dirtylittlesecret



Category: Actor RPF, Thor 2: The Dark World RPF
Genre: Biting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Possesiveness, Scratching, roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:50:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlesecret/pseuds/dirtylittlesecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So you meet at the wrap party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ruined Blue Shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> For Daisy. In Progress.

It was your first time at a wrap party, but as first assistant director, apparently you had to show. You kept your cool, ordering another drink at the free bar, and as you turned around to face the party with your G&T, you _accidently spill it on one of the stars of the picture, fuck._  
You didn’t really speak to him, except to call over a runner when he needed something or to pass on word from the director, as you were rather busy with call sheets or tracking progress rather than having time to chit-chat.   
You gasp out an apology, muttering as turn around, and reach over the bar to grab some napkins as you sort of, dab at the poor guy’s shirt.  
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, fuck, I didn’t mean-“  
“No, no, it’s quite alright.” He huffed out a laugh, and god damnit, his English accent was so beautiful. He asks for your name, and you tell him, and he smiles at you, even with G&T dripping on his blue button-up.  
“You’re Tom, right? Loki.” He nods, and you ask if he wants a drink, and he replies “Only if it isn’t going on me.” He then grins, looking you up and down whilst leaning back, before leaning into your ear and whispering, “I’d much rather that be you,” suddenly. You blush. He tells you he’ll be at the table over there, currently occupied with Chris Hemsworth, very star of the film, (that if the reviews say anything, Tom might just outshine), talking on a phone. You stutter at the comment, before nodding, and smiling. You order another G&T and a GreyGoose vodka and tonic. You wait at the bar for a few minutes as the bartender pours the drinks, your mind flitting over his comment. Tom isn’t a known flirt, so he must be a bit more drunk than he lets on.   
You smooth out your dark-coloured dress before you pick up the drinks, and you can still hear the clack of your god damn heels over the party as you walk to the table. You can barely believe in your in these fucking monstrosities. God, they hurt so much.   
By the time you arrive at the table, Chris is nursing an opened beer that he’s barely touched as he wraps up a phone call, telling Tom he was just gonna go talk to Eccelston for a bit about the press junket. Tom nods and turns to greet you as you walk up to the table.   
“Vodka and tonic for you.” You had him his drink and smile, leaning against the table to take some of the pressure off your feet. _Because you have to wear heels that’s why._ God, your friends suck, sometimes. Tom murmurs a thank you and sips at his drink as he stares at your face profoundly, before setting his drink down, and exclaiming,  
“Okay, so who are you? Are you from the set or are you a report or something?” You laugh at this, knowing full well from you assembling the guest list that no reporter would get in here.  
“I’m assistant director. I also was the person who made sure you were here tonight, man.” You grin as you answer, watching Tom his face into his hand as he does his ‘ehehehe’ laugh.   
You sip at your G&T as you make casual talk about the film, and a waitress comes by and you both order another drink, this time you go for a margarita as Tom orders 2 vodka shots. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him.   
“Okay, tonight, I plan to get maybe just a little hammered.” You laugh, and as you lean against the table your feet protest. You wince, and ask if Tom would like to move to a booth or something if he plans on getting ‘hammered’. Tom grins and agrees, taking your arm as you walk towards the back of the club. You talk about the reviews of the film as your drinks come back, and before the waitress leaves, Tom tips her £50 and asks for 4 more shots, the quicker the better. She smiles and hops off to the bar. You laugh.   
“Fifty, for 6 shots? You’re just as generous as they say.” Tom groans, smiling, as he downs the shots.  
“Don’t do that, it’s kinda weird when you know so much about me and I know nothing about you.” You shake your head,   
“Actually, to be honest, I didn’t really follow marvel films until I worked on this one. That’s when I went back and watched them all.” Tom looks amazed at this.   
“How could you not watch superhero films?” You shrug, saying now you’re totally invested into them. He smiles at the waitress as the four shots get placed infront of him suddenly. As she says ‘you’re welcome’ she drops her chest forward, winking. You notice how Tom’s eyes stay primarily set to yours, and you raise your brow again.  
“Now her, she’d know my date of birth, and what the weather was like on that day. Not my kinda girl.” You put your hands up slowly in a sign of ‘whatever, man’. Tom pushes two of the shots towards you and nods encouragingly as you take a hold of one of them. You down the two shots in sync with him, and laugh as you slam the glass down. You check your phone, and it’s only just gone midnight. You grin. This night is going to be awesome.


	2. Bubbles of Champagne.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you get to know each other at the wrap party.

By 1am, you’re like old friends, with secret jokes about other cast and crew members, and you’re both sat on Tom’s side of the booth, him on the outer part, backs away from the party as you giggle like the infernal drunks you are. The waitress brings over two glasses of champagne from Hemsworth, and you both clink your glasses, and chant “Cheers!” before downing them in one go, Tom asks the waitress to return the favour to Hemsworth but with absinthe instead, before giggling.  
The waitress flounders off leaving you and Tom alone, the buzz of the party in the background a low noise as you stare at each other with goofy smiles on your faces before you bust out giggling. You lean your head on your hand, which is leaning on the table, as you stare at Tom.  
“So, what’s a megastar like you doing at this party alone? Surely there’s a girlfriend to the Hiddleston.” He shakes his head, goofy smile still on his face as he replies,  
“No, actually. Flying solo tonight and for most of the wrap parties I've attended.” He pouts slightly at you and you laugh.  
“You are purely single because you want to be, and you know it, Thomas.” You smack him playfully on the shoulder, resting your hand there lazily. His eyes track the movement and he shifts closer to you.   
“I am single because I do know that these things are without a doubt, a drag whilst being accompanied by a partner,” You raise your eyebrow, and gesture for him to carry on, he huffs out a laugh, smiling, his mouth open slightly, and his licks his bottom lip before finishing, “Because they get so jealous when you compliment someone on their outfit, or something of the like, purely because it’s fact that after a wrap party, no one goes home alone, and the person you just happened to compliment was a big fan, or they just went through a break up.” You take a minute to absorb this fact, before you push closer to him slightly, replying,   
“This is my, what, fourth wrap party? I've gone home unaccompanied at those ones.” Tom looks more shocked than when you admitted you didn't know marvel films that well. You throw him a questioning glance.   
His English accent comes out thick as chocolate icing and gravelly, almost as similar as the voice he put on for his part in the movie, when he speaks,   
“On behalf of all the single and attainable men at all those parties, I apologize, as a woman as fine as yourself should never go home unaccompanied. A gentleman should at least make sure you get home _safely_.”  
You shake your head, smirking at this, as you pat him softly on his right shoulder, murmuring, “I don’t need to be taken home, Thomas, I’m more than capable of looking after myself,” His reply is instantaneous for a drunken man,   
“Oh I don’t doubt that.” He was definitely using his ‘Loki’ voice then. You smirk, your hand still on his shoulder which seems to have shifted closer to you, you’re back close to hitting the wall, as you mutter “I’m so sure I’ll make it home safe tonight,” and he smiles, muttering that “I’ll make sure of that,” and that’s the last words he says, before he presses his lips against yours, his arm moving down, and resting his hand on the top of your thigh, stroking where the hem of the dress ends with his thumb.   
You completely melt into the kiss, tasting the bubbles of the champagne in his mouth, as you open yours to let his tongue slip in, feeling him nip at your lip playfully before he does. Your arms wrap around his neck as you deepen the kiss, and you move your legs up so they’re across his lap, and his hand skirts up to your hip, pulling you closer to him. The party seems to slow down but become louder around you as you kiss. Fuck. You’re kissing, apparently, Tom fucking Hiddleston. At a wrap party. How is this even life?!  
He slowly breaks the kiss, pulling back as he exhales softly, his eyes dragging up your body to meet yours, and he whispers, “Shall we go back to mine?”


	3. A Screwdriver!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you leave the wrap party.

You accept his hand as he slides out the booth, and he helps you stand to your feet in your now-kinda wobbly heels. Eccelston comes over and you fight to control your fangirl, at standing so close to _The Doctor_. Fuck. Oh my god. He’s so cute oh my god.  
He speaks to Tom about the premiere, before casting eyes on you. His northern accent is much more glorious in person.  
“Hello! Assistant director, right?” You smile and nod, fuck yeah, Christopher Eccelston knows who you are. He extends his hand, the hand that once _held a sonic screwdriver oh my god_ , and you let go of Tom’s hand to shake Chris’.  
“We were just about to leave the party, actually, so I’ll call you tomorrow about the press junket when I’m a little less...” Tom gestures to himself, smiling and laughing. Chris grins and hugs Tom, and then turns and pulls you in to the _best fucking hug ever holy shit_. You pat his back, quickly murmuring out, “Fucking favourite Doctor” to him as Tom starts to walk, and he laughs, and says “It’s a screwdriver!” in his best dramatic voice, you laugh, dazzled, and say see you soon, because that’s the most you can say when you meet the fucking Doctor, how is this life, oh my god.  
Tom hears the screwdriver comment and you see him let out a little laugh as you walk up to him and push him gently in the side.  
“Shut up, that was the fucking Doctor.” Tom holds his hands up in surrender, before placing one around you. When you get to the coat room, he stops, as if remembering something. He tells you the address of his flat, and tells you to get a cab there, since there will be, without a doubt, at least 20 paparazzi’s outside the door. You nod, understanding how bad it could look for him to leave with a ‘mystery woman’. He tells you he will get the next cab to his flat and meet you there.  
You leave the place, and as expected a few paps shoot your picture, firing off questions, asking if the wrap party is inside and you shrug at them, saying you were just there for a party. You holler a cab and one stops for you. You whittle out Tom’s address and lay back in the seat. You close your eyes and feel London fly past the taxi windows.  
You give the driver £20, expecting that to cover the fee he mumbled, and wave your hand when he goes to give you the change. You look up at the block of rather flash flats, and loiter beside the gate for a moment, trying not to draw so much attraction to yourself. You see the string blinds of the bottom flat twinge for a second, but decide to ignore it as you wait for Tom.  
You dig your make up bag out of your bag, and flip open the mirror, adjusting your slightly smudged eyeliner wing, before a taxi pulls up by the flat. You shove the contents back into your bag.  
You see Tom give the guy a note, his hand waving in a similar gesture to yours as he gets out. No words are exchanged as he strides up to you confidently, his hands reaching to and then gripping your face as he kisses you, nothing like the kiss in the club, soft and gentle at first. This one is much more lust-filled, and passionate. Your hands go up to cling at his brunettey-blonde curls, biting at his lip playfully as you hear him rife through his pockets, and pulling out his keys. You break the kiss for a moment so he can open the door to the apartment block, slipping inside, and pulling you into the elevator.  
He pushes you against the wall after pressing a button, claiming his mouth for your own, as the elevator perks up to life, moving upwards smoothly. His tongue invades your mouth, filling yours with the taste of hors d’oeuvres faintly and a taste you simply label as “Tom”. You wrap your arms around his waist as he cups your face, pulling his hips closers to yours as you grind together like teenagers for a few moments, until the lift dings.  
A middle-aged woman gets in and presses the ‘Ground’ button, doing a double-look at Tom. He smiles.  
“Ms Christoforou, how lovely to see you.”  
“As nice as that sentiment is, Thomas, I don’t think you really mean it.” You glance up at Tom before snorting into your hand. He has dark red lipstick smeared across his mouth and you hold in your laughs as the elevator moves upwards again. Tom feels where you’re gazing and you can practically hear his brain ticking as he glances at your mouth which is probably less smeared, but still noticeably.  
He then wipes furiously at his mouth for a moment, _blushing_.  
“It-It’s not what-“  
“Not what I think? Honestly Thomas, I’m not that old.” The woman retorts, quick as a bullet. You laugh into your hand again. Of course Tom would know his neighbours that live on a completely different floor.  
The elevator dings for your floor, and you take Tom’s arm as you step out, murmuring a farewell to the lady, as she smiles and shakes her head, waving goodbye to Tom and you.  
Tom steps outside the door on the right side of the hallway, the only one. He probably is best friends with that neighbour. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you. You smile at him, and take his hand as you walk in, keeping your eyes totally connected to his as you shrug off your jacket, and bag. He takes it for you, hanging it on the coat rack next to the door, politely. He stutters for a moment as you stand there, in the barely-lit apartment, hand on your hip and eyebrow raised. He flicks on the light, dimming it slightly so it’s not too bright, and gestures to the lounge.  
It’s bohemian, books scattered about and a very comfortable feeling to it. His furnishing is all dark red or maroon, the wallpaper, an Indian-type style, and it appears you’re standing on a large Persian rug. You smile. He leads you slowly towards what you presume is the bedroom, your steps slow and delicate with his. On the way you kick off your shoes, making you about a foot shorter than him, and he smirks at the sudden height difference. He kisses you again, hand in your hair and on your shoulder as he tilts his head, biting at your lip before divulging his tongue. He kicks open a door behind him, shuffling back, refusing to break the kiss, and his hand leaves your hair for a moment as he gropes the wall for a light switch, dimming the room in here. You see the brightness momentarily, the flash of it, behind your shut eyelids, and you see it dim. You use this moment to break the kiss and properly look at Tom, with your arms somehow wrapped around him.  
His shirt is a mix of sweaty with covered in drinks, his blazer long gone, and his leather-like jeans cling to him, promoting a certain part of his body rather well. Your eyes drag up to his, and he’s panting slowly, his eyes blown with lust, barely any of that beautiful blue/green left, only a small ring around the black. There’s still lipstick across his mouth. You smile, pushing up onto your toes as you kiss him, clutching his elbow and face as you do, and in that moment, it’s totally perfect.


	4. Germany Scene.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so you get to see the Loki side of Tom.

His hands go to clutch under your arms, lifting you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, and you hear the door shut 0.3 seconds before he pushes you up against it, his tongue invading your mouth, after he bites down on your lip, and you feel him smirk into the kiss, letting out a huff of a laugh at your little moan, fuck this man is gonna be the death of you.  
Your hands reach to tug at the buttons on the shirt, and he feels the back of your dress for a zip, before he slowly lets you slip your legs down, and he steps away, eyes on fire with his shirt hanging loosely on him now that it’s unbuttoned, and you lift the dress off you slowly, and he steps back towards you as you drop the dress, his hands landing on your hips, eyes on yours, before you feel him touch your tights, and his face is priceless as he looks so offended at the garments, and he slides down, and you lean against the door, exhaling a breath slowly.  
His hands take a hold of the top of your tights, pulling them down slowly along with your underwear, as he looks directly up at you, and you feel the cooler air brush against your legs, and crotch. You push your legs together at the feeling, and Tom smirks. He lets the items of discarded clothing pool at your feet, his hands sliding down from your hips to your thighs, stroking them gently as you part your legs for him slowly. Oh god.  
Tom’s hand moves to your v, his eyes drag down from your face at your nearly-uncovered body, as they rest on his own fingers, and he watches them slide between your legs, fingers stroking between your labia. His face is a mix of pure unadulterated lust and adoration as he feels how wet you are, how you give out little gasps at his soft touches. You can’t help the buck of your hips as he slowly slides on finger in, his face is closer to your v now, you feel his breaths between your thighs and you go to close your legs on instinct and he keeps them open with his hands, his voice gravelly as he says just “No,”.  
You let out a whine at this, feeling him drop down lower, leaning his head under your v almost, and you put your leg over his shoulder to make it easier to him, and you _feel_ his huff of a laugh, and shiver.  
He presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing at it for a moment, before he reaches up and presses his tongue against it, and you reach for something, anything to grip onto as he does something with his tongue that rubs your clit _just_ the right way, and you moan, pushing your hips down, and your hand flies to his hair, gripping onto that instead of thin air, and his free hand that isn’t holding your propped-up thigh, pushes down on your hip to keep you still as you hear a low but definite growl from him.  
Tom mutters out something like, “So wet for me, hmm?”, and you can’t help it, your other hand flies to his hair as you let out a cry, feeling his fingers strike against your g-spot harshly. His lightly scrapes his teeth against your clit, before rolling his tongue and sucking it gently, before letting go, his thumb rubbing at it again.  
You feel him repeat this tease for a few minutes, before you pull on his hair, sighing out that you’re fucking ready, already, and he slowly withdraws his fingers leaving you feeling slightly empty, his tongue flicking against your clit once more, and he stands up, jeans rough against your naked skin. You stare into each other eyes for a moment, your hands fallen from his hair, and are now wrapped around his neck as you pull him down for a scorching kiss. His arms find their way around your waist, and he spins you around and walks you to the bed, the back of your knees hitting it soon enough, and you tumble down, and he slides on top of you as he shucks off his jeans and socks, leaving you in just your bra, and him in his black boxers that hide absolutely nothing.  
You pull him back into a kiss, and he slides back onto his knees, pulling you up with him, as he sits on his knees on the bed, arms wrapped around your waist. You rut against him slowly, feeling his hard-on through the thin boxers that are just a little-but-not-rough-enough against your clit, and your hands unwrap from his neck, sliding down his sides slowly as you hook your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down inch by inch before his dick slides out of the cotton prison, and you move your arms back to over his shoulders, pressing the lower half of your body to his as you slowly grind with him, his hips snapping forward with precision and ease, one of his hands slipping down from your waist to your ass, unhooking your bra on the way, and pulling it off you. He palms your ass, and pulls you closer to him, so there’s no air between you.  
You barely register his hand leaving your ass, but you sure as hell note when he spanks you once, rubbing the shocked area with his hand softly. You arch your back, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cry out at the spank, and the cry dissolves into pants and he mumbles “Hm?” You acknowledge what he’s asking and you whisper “Yeah.”  
His hand rubs at the smooth of your ass again, calming the skin. This time he starts with several softer spanks, you feel each one with an intense strike, and you feel the sweat on both your skins each time your back arches, pressing you against him, and his hand slowly slips in between you for a second between spanks, and gripping his dick as he moves to slide it against your clit for a second, watching your eyes carefully as he does. Feel his pants on your skin, and you’re sure he feels the same, as he leans his head back slightly, mouth opening into a little ‘o’ as he pushes his dick into you, his hands moving to your thighs as he leans back onto the heels of hit feet and you wrap your legs around him, feeling him shift the position as he bottoms out.  
He manages to unfold his legs smoothly and crosses them, as he thrusts up into you, going much deeper than he could in the original position. You let out a soft cry whereas he bites into your shoulder for a moment, leaving you a bruise there, as his hands rub at your ass again, pulling you up and down softly, pulling out less than halfway before pulling you back down onto him. He kisses at the skin he bit into, before doing it again, and you let out a moan, moving to pant just below his ear, and you move your hand down to your clit as he uses his to pull you down onto his cock.  
He kisses his way up your neck, just at your ear as he whispers,  
“So how much did you enjoy the film, hmm? Did you enjoy any part of mine?” And your hand stills for a moment, because _what_. Your mind ticks for a few moments, Tom’s bated breath on your neck as you answer “Y-Yeah. Loki. Really fuckin’ liked Loki.”  
He pants out a laugh as you go to bite into his neck. His voice comes out in the guttural purr you heard so often on set, coming out in some kind of growl,  
“Mark me, as I’ve marked you, I want this memory to last for the both of us, darling.”  
You can’t help your hips as they stutter forward, your hand on his back digging it’s nails in, surely leaving scratch marks as you arch your back at a particularly hard thrust, and he murmurs a pleased noise, he thrusts become harsher, he pulls and pushes you onto his dick with more speed as he whispers more dirty things into your ear.  
“Did you watch my plight with the Avengers, dear one?” You let out a gasp that sounds remotely like a ‘yes’, “And what did you do when I ensnared your precious Midgard?”  
You decide to answer honestly.  
“I laughed.”  
You half expect the growl that comes, but not the vicious spank that most likely will leave a red hand print, that causes you to throw your head back and let out a loud cry of ‘Fuck!’.  
“I’m glad it was so endearing to you, Midgardian. Did you laugh for the entire war, my dear?” You shake your head as you grind down onto his dick, which has slowed its thrusts.  
“Oh? So when did the laughter cease, sweet?” You let out a keening noise as the thrusts stop, and Tom’s hand over-takes yours, as he rubs your clit.  
“T-The..Germany part. The speech you gave. Kneeling.” You pant out, thrusting your hips toward him and biting his shoulder as you feel his cock brush against your g-spot.  
“Oh? Do you like it when I order people to kneel?” You nod your head, as you turn the bite mark into a large love bite, murmuring something about subjugation.  
“And what did you do during that part then, pray tell if you were not laughing.” You squeeze your eyes shut. Panting heavily, as you trail your mouth from his shoulder, moving it up to his ear as you whisper,  
“I slouched on my sofa, my hand slipping from my stomach, and into my jeans, as I touched myself.. _Loki._ To you. Telling me to kneel.” Tom groans, thrusting into you once, as if he can’t control it, and you feel pride. You made _him_ feel like that.  
“How long did it take you to cum?” His voice is much darker, all traces of his normal giggly voice gone. You look him dead in the eyes, as you say,  
“When Captain America was kneeling before you. That part. Wanted it to be me.”  
You watch his mouth open only slightly, before it shuts again, along with his eyes, and he leans his head forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his pants dancing across your face, and as his eyes flash open he thrusts into you, his thumb flicking your g-spot, and you arch your chest, as you scream out Tom’s name.  
Tom’s mouth finds its way to your ear as he whispers profanities, like letting the whole building know you are his for tonight. No others can see you like this, and you leave scratch marks in his back as he bites into your neck, leaving large purpling love bites, his thrusts increasing with speed as he thumbs your clit.  
You grind down onto his dick, feeling the familiar coiling in the pit of your stomach as you do, and you let out a keening noise, and Tom harshens his thrusts, as he leans up and whispers one word into your ear.  
 _”Mine.”_  
You orgasm with his name on your lips, as you scream it to the ceiling, and you feel him hold you tight as he thrusts into and through your orgasm, before cumming deeply, sliding against your g-spot one last time as he does. He continues to stroke your clit as you climax, gently pulling his fingers away and sliding out, and just holds you as you pant and cling to each other. He kisses all the love bites he left on your shoulders and neck, and you stroke over the scratch marks you left on his back and he shudders as you do. Well. Someone likes being clawed.  
You remain cuddling until it’s the cool air from a cracked window that causes you to shiver, and Tom lays you down softly to rest, offering you a shirt to sleep in as he pulls on boxers, when he shuts the window completely. You accept the shirt, pulling it over his head, and look down, seeing it’s a shirt of his, with Loki on it saying “I do what I want!”. You grin and cuddle up to him as he gets back into the bed, wrapping his arms and legs around yours as he kisses your forehead and you both fall to sleep.


End file.
